ASMAU
"Mummy, your birthday is next week, right?" Noorie asked, snapping me away from my thoughts.
It had been three days, and there was still no news about Iman or Ya Salma's whereabouts. Abubakar had hired some security for us around the house because he was concerned they might come to harm one of us. I wasn't really scared, but I was consumed by anger, mostly at myself for not realizing everything sooner. I also didn't know how I would react when I faced Ya Salma. She had caused so much trouble for us, and I had burning questions that needed answers.
Why did she do this to me?
Why did she join forces with Iman to bring me down?
What had I ever done to her to deserve her hatred? If it was because of Abubakar, I thought she was the one who had refused to marry him when she found out he had kids.
So, all this time she had been acting so nice to me, was it all just an act?
"Yes, baby, my birthday is next week. How did you remember?" I asked, surprised because, even as the birthday girl, I had almost forgotten about it with everything going on in my life.
"Why would I forget my Mummy's birthday?" She asked and sat down on my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and resting her head on my chest.
"Awww, my baby," I cooed and placed a loving kiss on her forehead.
"Maamaa," Afeena pouted and scampered down from the couch where she sat with Safeeya. She toddled over to us.
"What's the matter, Afeena?" I asked as she tried to clamber onto the couch, managing it with some effort. Once up, she tugged at Noorie, attempting to pull her away from my lap.
"Afeena, let go," Noorie said, struggling to release from her grasp.
"Afeena, stop it," I scolded, my eyes wide in sternness.
"It seems like someone's jealous," Safeeya chimed in, teasingly.
Noorie, who was still on my lap, shifted slightly. Afeena took this as an invitation and settled down beside her, nestling her head on my chest.
"Are you feeling jealous, Afeena?" I asked, playfully tickling her.
She looked up at me, "Mama, Mama, Ya Noorie tayii sauka," she replied in her unique Hausa accent, her little face sporting an adorable pout. Ignoring Noorie's presence, she nudged her again.
"Afeena, I'm not going anywhere. You should get down," Noorie replied.
"Afeena, you're stirring up trouble," I warned.
"Mamaaaaa!!!" Afeena suddenly cried out, her voice echoing through the room. She began swatting Noorie with her small hands, but Noorie refrained from retaliating.
If I tell you Afeena is a bully believe me
"Aishaa!" I chided her, giving her a gentle tap on the arm. "Why are you being such a troublemaker!?"
Afeena paused her assault on Noorie and gazed at me bursting into tears.
"Be careful with me," I cautioned Afeena, pointing my finger at her in a playful warning.
"Feenaa, it's okay, come here," Safeeya called her, her voice soothing. Afeena rushed over to her, climbed onto her lap, and hugged her tightly, continuing to cry softly. Safeeya patted her back, trying to comfort her. "Hush, don't mind Mummy and Noorie," she said.
"Who touched my baby?" Abubakar's voice suddenly cut through the room. He emerged from his room, dressed in a jallabiya and wearing a tired expression. It was clear that he had probably been napping, given the stressful efforts to locate Iman and Ya Salma.
"Daddy, Afeena was hitting me," Noorie quickly reported, hopping down my laps and positioning herself in front of her father.
Afeena, her face still red from crying, turned toward her Dad, her tiny hand pointing at both me and Noorie. He swiftly scooped her up into his arms.
"Didn't I warn you about pointing at people?" I asked Afeena, with a stern look.
"Mummy, leave my daughter alone, please," Abubakar interjected and I shot him a look of disbelief.
"You're the one spoiling these children, wallahi. Especially Afeena, I don't know how she got even more stubborn than before," I complained.
"She got it from her mother, of course," he smirked.
"Wallahi, not from me because I was never stubborn. Even Aunty said among her kids I was the calmest," I defended, and he let out a chuckle. "Don't you believe me?" I asked, playfully glaring at him.
"No, I didn't say so."
"Better," I muttered and turned to Safeeya. "Feeyah, where is Ansar and Afeen?" I asked.
"They're playing football downstairs because apparently Ansar said he wants to teach Afeen how to become a professional in playing football like him," she shook her head and facepalmed herself.
"Noorie, go bring Afeen; he needs to take his vitamins," I ordered.
"Okay, Mummy," she replied and made her way to the stairs.
"Asmau, I think we should get ready and head to the hospital, right?" Abubakar asked, glancing at the clock on the wall.
"Okay, I will go get ready, let me just give Afeen his vitamins."
"I will get ready too," he said, dropping Afeena down as she stood on her feet and ran over to me while he walked back to his room.
"Mummy," she whined.
"Yes, Afeenaa," I carried her up in my arms and kissed her cheeks.
"Indomie," she said.
"After you just finished being a stubborn girl, right?" I asked, with a raised brow.
"Nooooo, I want indomieee."
I sighed. "Okay, then," then turned my gaze to Safeeya, who was using her phone. "Safeeya, your sister wants indomie."
"Wallahi, I'm tired, Mummy. Ansar should make it for her." She said.
"Mummy, I want Ya Feeyah's own," Afeena pouted.
My daughter has a strong will, honestly.
"Okay, then go and beg Ya Feeyah to please make indomie for you, kun fi kusa," I stated. Just then, Noorie and Afeen walked into the parlour.
"Mummyy," Afeen smiled, revealing his one-sided dimple.
"Afeen feen, come take your vitamins," I said, unzipping his bag and bringing out his medicine.
"Mummy, indomie," Afeena began wailing again.
"Afeena, don't disturb me, please!" I snapped at her, and she climbed off me and went away angrily. I gave Afeen his vitamins before moving to my room to get ready.
*
We arrived at the hospital a few minutes ago. It was a challenge to convince Noorie to stay at home because she really wanted to accompany us. She was afraid that I might leave again, and it got to a point where she started crying. Thankfully, I managed to convince her by promising to take them shopping once all of this was over. For some reason, I had a feeling that something big was going to happen today. I couldn't tell if it involved catching Ya Salma and Iman or if it was something else entirely. Maybe it was just my insecurity acting up.
"Asmau, why didn't you bring my grandkids with you? I really wanted to see them," Aunty asked.
Some of my siblings had left the hospital earlier, so it was just Abubakar, Aunty, Ya Aminah, Amir, Ya Hanne, and me in the room.
"Aunty, you know these kids would just be a handful, right? Especially Afeena, she's so naughty," I chuckled.
"Well, one of these days, you should bring them before I get discharged, please," she said.
"Okay, then," I agreed.
"By the way, Abubakar, is there any news about Salma and her partner?" Aunty inquired.
"Wallahi, there isn't any news, Aunty, but the police are still doing their best to find them," he replied.
"I wonder where they are hiding," Ya Hanne pondered.
"The police have checked all of Iman's family properties and likely hiding spots, but they found nothing. They're trying to be clever about it, and I'm almost certain they're still here in Abuja, waiting for the right moment to escape somewhere else," Abubakar explained.
"I hope they get caught soon," Ya Aminah prayed, and we all said, "Ameen."
"I have this feel--" I began, but the sound of the door opening interrupted me.
"Assalamu'alaikum," Mami and Maryam walked into the room. They exchanged pleasantries before taking their seats.
"Ya karin sauki, Hajiya Maryam?" Mami asked.
"Wallahi, Alhamdulillah." She responded.
"Mami, ina wuni," I greeted, squatting down.
"Lafiya ka lau, Asmau? Ya mai jiki?" she asked with a smile.
So, yesterday, Abubakar took me to their mansion, and I explained everything to my in-laws, including why I left. I had expected my mother-in-law to be furious, but to my surprise, it was quite the opposite. As soon as she saw me, she enveloped me in a warm and loving hug. We talked, and I apologized for leaving. Her response shocked me.
"It's okay, my daughter. I know it wasn't your fault," she reassured me.
I was genuinely taken aback.
She's better, Alhamdulillah," I replied.
"Okay, Allah ya kara sauki," she prayed, and we all muttered an Ameen.
"Matar yaya, where are my kids?" Maryam asked as she sat beside me on the couch.
Mami was deep in conversation with Aunty, while Abubakar and Amir had gone to the mosque. Ya Aminah and I were discussing Ya Salma and Iman's situation.
"They're all at home, Maryam. They wanted to come, but it's too risky considering the situation we are in," I explained.
"Oh, yes, you're right," she replied. Just then, my phone rang. It was Safeeya.
"Hello, Ya Feeyah," I answered.
"Hello, Mummy. Have you guys found Ammi?" she asked.
"No, why?" I inquired, curious.
"Because she just called me now."
"What?! She did? What did she say?" I asked, drawing everyone's attention to me.
"She didn't say anything, Mummy, but she said something that really scared me."
"What?" I asked eagerly.
"She said we should please forgive her and that no matter what happens, she will always love us. Then she hung up. I tried calling her again, but the line was switched off. Mummy, I'm really worried about what's going to happen."
"Don't worry, Feeyah. Just keep on praying. I love you," I reassured her.
"I love you too, and take care of yourself, please," she said, her voice laced with concern.
"In shaa Allah," I replied and hung up.
"Asmau, what is it?" Abubakar asked, the moment they returned and I explained everything to them.
"Something is wrong," I added.
"Okay, I will inform the authorities about this," he said, taking out his phone out and stepping out of the room.
"We should get going now," Mami said as she got up from her seat.
"Hajiya Fatima, this early?" Aunty inquired.
"Wallahi, please inform us if there is any news." We bid each other goodbye before they left.
A few minutes later, Abubakar returned to the room to announce that they had found the location of Iman and Ya Salma.
"Where?" I asked, walking over to where he stood.
"They are obviously trying to escape because they are on their way to the airport, but the police are on their way too."
"Oh, Ni Maryam. I hope they get caught," Aunty prayed.
"I have to go now; I will head to the airport too. I just hope everything goes well," he stated.
"Okay, I will go with you," I said.
"No, Asmau, it's dangerous. You better stay here."
"Yes, it's dangerous, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you, so it's better I go with you," I insisted. He sighed and excused us from the room, and we stepped outside.
"My love, please stay here with Aunty. I don't want anything bad to happen to you, especially with how Salma hates you. She might try to harm you when she sets her eyes on you. I want you to be safe, no matter what."
"But—"
"Asmau, please," he pleaded. Tears filled my eyes, and I tried my best to remain calm.
"Okay, take care of yourself and make sure you return to me safely."
"I will, In shaa Allah," he smiled reassuringly, and I wrapped my arms around him, not minding the few people passing by and watching us. I knew that In shaa Allah, nothing would happen to him, but I was still scared.
"I have to go now," he stated after we pulled out of the hug.
"I'll escort you outside."
"No, don't worry, just go back inside."
"Okay, but please take care and be careful." We hugged one last time before I walked back into the room.
"Asmau, calm down; he will be fine. Just keep on praying," Ya Aminah assured as she gently guided me to sit down.
"I know he will, but I still wanted to go with him," I replied, my anxiety making it difficult to stay still.
"Asmau, please calm down. Right now, all he needs is your prayers," Aunty advised.
"Yes, I know," I sighed and buried my face in my palms.
"Here," I looked up to see Ya Aminah holding a glass of water out for me.
"Thanks," I said as I accepted it and took a sip.
"Are you okay?" She asked as she sat down beside me.
"I don't know. I'm scared," I admitted in a hushed voice, tears filling up in my eyes.
"Don't be, just pray," she encouraged.
I sighed, feeling incredibly nervous. "I need to go," I declared, standing up from my seat.
"Where?" They all chorused in concern.
"To the airport. I can't just sit here doing nothing," I replied.
"Asmau, no, it's too dangerous," Ya Hanne said, her worry evident.
"Ya Hanne, I feel uneasy. I'd rather just go; otherwise, I won't feel alright," I explained.
"But Abubakar said you should stay here, Asmau," Ya Aminah reminded me, her grip on my wrist gentle but firm.
"I know, but I can't! I just can't, Ya Aminah, please, just allow me to go," I pleaded.
"Asmau, don't be stubborn, please," Aunty implored.
"Aunty, I don't want him to go there alone. Who knows what Ya Salma and Iman can do?" I replied urgently.
"And do you think you can protect him?" Ya Aminah asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, only Allah can protect him, but no matter what, I want to be with him. So just allow me to go," I insisted, my voice filled with determination.
"Okay, I will go with you," Ya Aminah suggested.
"No, you shouldn't. Just stay here," I protested.
"Look, Asmau, if you're going, then I'm going with you. Ya Hanne can stay with Aunty here," Ya Aminah insisted.
"Okay, Ya Aminah, let's just go; we are wasting a lot of time," I agreed, realizing that arguing further wouldn't change her mind.
*
"Ya Aminah, please drive faster," I pleaded, my impatience and worry growing by the second. I had wanted to drive, but she insisted understanding how anxious I was.
"I'm driving as fast as I can, Asmau," she replied, her focus on the road.
Suddenly, I noticed a line of cars up ahead, and they weren't moving. It looked like they were parked right in the middle of the road.
"Ya Aminah," I called, my concern deepening, and she began to slow down the car as we approached the blocked road.
"Wait, that's Abubakar's car, Ya Aminah," I pointed at a car parked near a police vehicle.
"Let's park here," she suggested, pulling the car to a stop at a safe distance from the other vehicles in front of us.
We both got out of the car and started walking toward the commotion ahead. We took slow, cautious steps, unsure of what had happened.
"I can hear voices, Asmau," Ya Aminah said, her face etched with worry.
"I can too," I replied, my curiosity and concern driving me forward. Then, I saw something I never expected.
"SALMA MUHAMMAD, DROP YOUR WEAPON AND SURRENDER TO THE AUTHORITIES NOW!" a police officer shouted, aiming a gun at Ya Salma, who was standing near Iman, holding a gun herself. However, her gun was also pointed at Abubakar.
My heart skipped a beat at the sight of a gun pointed at Abubakar, and my mind raced with a flood of terrifying thoughts. Ignoring all caution, I walked towards them without a second thought.
"Yaa Salmaa, No!" I yelled, and everyone turned their heads in my direction.
Ya Salma smirked, her eyes fixed on me. "Just the person I wanted to see."
I couldn't believe what was happening. It felt like a surreal moment, as if I were in a dream or a movie. My own sister was pointing a gun at me.
"Asmau, what the hell are you doing here?" Abubakar asked, his concern evident. Before I could reply, Ya Salma spoke.
"Oh Abubakar, are you worried about her? Well, she just made it easier for me. At least even if I die, I will be at ease knowing Asmau will die with me," she said with a twisted smile.
"SALMA, WE REPEAT, DROP YOUR WEAPON, OR WE WILL SHOOT!" the police officers warned.
"If you shoot me, I will shoot Asmau," Ya Salma threatened, her finger trembling on the trigger.
"Go ahead then, do it," I said, doing my best to hide my fear, although my heart pounded in my chest.
"Asmau, shut up, please!" Abubakar ordered, his voice laced with desperation, and then he turned to Salma. "Look, Salma, I'll do anything you want, just please don't pull the trigger. I beg you."
"Abubakar, isn't this nice? Your wife will die right in front of you, and there's nothing you can do about it," she said, an evil smile curving her lips.
"Salma, please don't do anything crazy," Ya Aminah pleaded, standing behind me.
"Oh, Ya Aminah, I'm going to kill your favorite sister, right? So sad," Salma taunted.
"The both of you are cowards! You and Iman are both cowards! Salma, I regret ever trusting you! I should have never trusted you because you are no different from Iman. I was so stupid not to realize that both of you were plotting against me! And how could the both of you even sleep knowing that you murdered so many lives? You are disgusting and heartless, and I regret ever having you as a sister!" I yelled, my anger and frustration boiling over.
"Say whatever you want, Asmau, but everything is your fault! You should have never married the man I love! Abubakar was mine, but you stole him away from me! You took the only man I have ever loved!" she yelled back, her eyes filled with anger and obsession.
"You don't love him; you're just way too obsessed with him. Put that in your head! You would never hurt someone you really love, and you would want him to be happy no matter what. But that isn't your case because of your obsession and your thirst for revenge! And here I thought Iman was the only woman obsessed with my husband, but I was actually wrong. Stupid idiots!" I snapped.
"I'm done discussing this with you because right now, I will kill you just like I killed Layla and Abdul. Right, Iman?" she said, turning to Iman, who had a conflicted expression on her face, filled with confusion, fright, and sadness all at once.
"Salma, please let's surrender," Iman said in a soft, almost inaudible voice, surprising everyone including me.
"What the hell are you saying, Iman?" Salma snapped. "I thought you wanted Asmau killed so you could have Abubakar all to yourself?!"
"I want nobody killed, Salma. I just want my family back, and I also want to die in peace," Iman said.
"What do you mean? Don't tell me you're backing out!? You can't betray me, Iman!"
A tear slid down Iman's cheek, and she spoke with a shaky voice. "Salma, my life has already ended. I'm going to die soon because I've been diagnosed with cancer, and I have only a month left to live."
"What?" Ya Salma gasped, her face mirroring my own shock. "Why didn't you tell me this?" she asked, her tone softer now.
"I found out last week, and I couldn't tell you because I was really shocked and scared. Look, Salma, just drop the gun, and let's surrender. I want to die in peace, near my kids," Iman implored.
Ya Salma clenched her jaw and said, "I'm sorry, Iman, but Asmau has to die because I took an oath to kill her with my own two hands, even if it costs me my life!"
"Then do it!!!" I yelled angrily, unable to contain my frustration and fear.
"Salma, if you shoot my wife, I promise that I will strangle you to death, so don't even think of pulling that trigger," Abubakar threatened, his voice laced with a dangerous edge.
"I'm sorry, Abubakar, but you will watch how the three women who love you more than anything, who are willing to sacrifice anything for you, die right before your eyes. You will regret ever choosing Asmau instead of us," Salma said, her voice cold and unyielding, and she pointed the gun directly at my head.
"Salma, please, I beg you not to do it; otherwise, you will regret it in the end," Ya Aminah pleaded, her voice shaky.
"My life is already over, and I have nothing left anymore," Salma replied, tears streaming down her face.
"Salma, don't, please," Iman pleaded, taking slow steps forward. "It's over... it's time we surrender."
"SALMA MUHAMMAD, PUT YOUR WEAPON DOWN, OR WE WILL SHOOT! THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING!" the police officers warned.
Salma shook her head at the police and smiled. "Asmau, if I won't be happy, then you won't be either. Goodbye, baby sis."
I was already imagining myself getting shot and bleeding on the ground. The image was quite unpleasant, and all I could think of at that moment were my kids. If I do die, will they grow up without a mother? Or if Abubakar gets married again, will she be a good mother to my kids or not?
Is this the end for me?
So my sister will be my murderer?
I flinched when I heard the sound of the gun, and all I was waiting for at that moment was the pain of the bullet and death to take me away. I mean, I already whispered the shahada, so there was nothing left for me already but the sadness in my heart that my own blood sister will be the end of me.
A series of gunshots rang out, one after the other, seconds after the first shot. However, what surprised me was the absence of pain that I had anticipated. Instead, my ears were filled with the loud calls of Iman's name.
I slowly opened my eyes, dreading what I might see. The scene that unfolded before me was something I could never have imagined.
Iman lay sprawled on the ground, her body surrounded by her own pool of blood. Just ahead of her, lay Ya Salma's lifeless body, also drenched in a pool of crimson. It was evident that both had sustained severe gunshot wounds inflicted by the police officers.
"Iman," Abubakar knelt beside her, and I followed suit, our faces marked with shock. Iman was still alive; her eyes were open, and she was struggling to breathe, blood gushing from where she had been shot.
"Please, someone, call an ambulance!" I implored the police officers, my eyes brimming with tears. "Iman, stay strong, please don't give up," I whispered, her head cradled in my lap.
"Iman, be strong, please, the ambulance is on its way," Abubakar stated with a worried look on his face but tried to act strong.
"Please... forgive me," she managed to say, and my eyes widened when I saw the amount of blood she was coughing out from her mouth.
"Shush... Iman, please save your strength. Why did you even do that? Why did you take the bullet for me?" I asked.
"Because you deserve to live, Asmau," she coughed up more blood before continuing, "taking the bullet for you was the least I could do after all the pain I have caused you. So, please, forgive me for everything," she pleaded, extending her trembling hand to touch my face.
"I forgive you, Iman, but please don't give up. Remember the kids need you. So, please, fight for them," I pleaded with tears in my eyes. She slowly turned her head to Abubakar.
"Abubakar, forgive me for everything... Take care of our children and forgive me for causing pain to you and your wife."
"Iman, don't talk like that; you're not going to die," Abubakar assured.
She managed a faint smile. "Of course, I will. I can feel it." She turned her face to me once more. "Take care of my kids, Asmau. Be the wonderful mother you've always been to them."
"Iman, no, please," I whispered, tears crawling down my eyes.
Abubakar began reciting the Shahada for her in her ears, and she followed him, repeating after him. In some seconds, her eyes slowly started shutting, and then she went numb.
She's gone forever...
"Goodbye, Iman," I whispered and slowly pulled away, gently lowering her lifeless body back onto the ground.
I looked over at Abubakar, and he had his head buried in his hands. I decided to give him some space, so I stood up and went forward to Ya Salma's lifeless body with my stepmom and Ya Aminah beside her, crying profusely.
"Salma, where did I go wrong in raising you?" Umma asked, her hands in her head. "How did you turn out like this, my child?" She cried.
Her situation was more terrifying and disgusting than Iman's. I think she was shot countless times, given the number of bullet holes and the pool of blood she was in. I wish she hadn't turned out to be so full of hatred and envy. She wouldn't have died this way.
"All we can do is pray for her," I hiccupped.
"Forgive her, Asmau, please," Umma pleaded.
"I forgive them all," I declared.
*
"Mummy, where have you been? And why is your dress all stained with blood?" Safeeya asked, her eyes shifting from me to Abubakar.
We had just returned home after Iman and Ya Salma's bodies had been taken away. The drive back had been silent. I knew this wasn't easy for Abubakar. Despite her being his ex-wife, they still had a history together that couldn't be erased. I never liked Iman; I always saw her as an enemy, my worst nightmare. But after what she did today, I realized that some people are not completely bad, and I forgive her for everything she had done to me.
"Safeeya, dear," I called, struggling to keep my composure. Safeeya would be deeply affected by the news of her mother's death; she was closer to Iman than Ansar and Noorie.
"Yes, Mummy, what's wrong, please?" Safeeya asked, her gaze filled with confusion. "Where's Ammi?" She added.
"Let's sit down, please," I said, reaching out to touch her, but she stepped back.
"No, just tell me. Ammi called earlier, asking us to forgive her, and it got me worried. So now, where is she?" She asked, concern in her voice.
I took a deep breath, biting my lip to hold back tears. "Iman is—" I choked on my words.
Abubakar, showing strength, decided to deliver the news. "Your Ammi is gone."
Safeeya stared at us in puzzlement, "What do you mean?"
I wiped away tears with my palm. "She's dead, Safeeya. I'm so sorry. She took a bullet for me when Ya Salma shot at me, and now she... she is gone."
"No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No!" She shouted, shaking her head in denial. "She can't be dead!! No, it's impossible! She can't be gone!!! She can't leave me!! She promised never to leave me again!!! Noooooo, Ammi, please!!!!!!"
"Safeeya, please calm down. I know it's hard, but please, you have to be patient. Every soul shall taste death," Abubakar reminded gently.
"Yess, Safeeya, your Ammi wouldn't want to see you like this," I added, though inside, I felt immense guilt. Iman's time had come, but she deserved to die in peace, and she didn't get that.
"Innalillahi," Safeeya whispered. She took slow steps back, and before we could react, she collapsed limply on the floor, unconscious.
"Safeeya!!" I cried out, my hand instinctively covering my mouth in shock.
*
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